The Heart Chooses What It Chooses
by xXBoulevard-of-Broken-DreamsXx
Summary: Takes place in the 6.13 when Booths thinks about proposing to Hannah. His thought. *WARNING* Could contain spoilers. One-Shot


**Hey there B and B fans. I couldn't wait until Thursday's epi, so I put up my version of the Booth that has to make a decision. So that's what I hope and wish will happen and he doesn't propose to Hannah. This is my first Bones fic so I'm sorry if it sounds OOC. Please leave comments, they would be very helpful**

**Thanks and Enjoy**

**P. and sorry for any mistakes grammar or structure wise. **

**Disclamer: I don't own Bones or any of the shows characters. They would have been married and due for a kid right now if it was my show!**

We are born and we live a life. From the childhood we are taught by society that we as a normal human being should go to school, go to college, have a good career and start a family. Well we are throughout our life have to make decisions that can impact our living. Like going to the army, becoming a sniper, later on having a kid with a girlfriend and joining FBI meeting an Anthropologist that you fall in love with and who breaks your heart; but your life doesn't stop there you meet a reporter that you know you're using to heal the pain in your heart. What though person desperately forgets to understand is that you always have a choice no matter what your situation is; to be with a person you know will never abandon you or look for the person your heart will stay happy with, the odds whoever of that person not breaking your heart are not in your favor. 

"Booth?" 

A female voice pulls me out of my thought. That voice I know for six years. That voice whose owner breaks hearts and finds the peace for those who got their heart broken. 

I smile at the quizzical face in front of me. That face that I try to forget but all tries end up at a dead end. 

"Hey Bones!" I say. 

Her big grey eyes study me carefully, sometimes I feel like one of her skeletons she sees right through me.

"You okay?" She asks, her mouth slightly ajar and her breath never filling her lungs.

Then I ask her what's she needs and she tells me the info about the latest case. What she found in the victim and what doesn't make sense. She explains with usual smart language that after six years I still think is fascinating. So that's when my brain stops thinking about my personal complicated life and goes out to do my duty with smart woman right beside me.

Several hours later when Bones is gone and this bazaar day is coming to an end, I find myself near Founding Father's and my brain starts to work again.

Everything around me is lid up. Trees are dressed in the white lights that are still here from Christmas reflecting the white snow that fell several weeks ago, that didn't have a chance to melt due to cold weather that was still dwelling upon D.C. and my hand reaches into a pocket of my black suit and picks up a blue box that could change the outcome of the rest of my life. 

I start reflecting on the conversation Sweets and I had last night about marriage. That 25 year old is a real therapist I tell ya even when drunk, maybe he knew what buttons to push, and after all he knows that I was a gambler in the past.  
I twirl the box in my hands and the laughter in the distance catches my eye. A woman and a man walk into the restaurant enjoying the presence of each other. I swallow and get back to my activity of playing with the box and think of all the times Bones and did the same thing. All the times that we used to spend together laughing and enjoying each other's company. I smile to myself like an idiot but before anything I hear my pocket ring and look at the screen that says: _"Hannah"_. I sigh and let her go to the voicemail putting my phone away. My brain knows that she makes sense; she's what I need and be okay with. But my heart belongs to the one it chooses: Bones. My brain snaps back to the memory of me and Gordon Gordon talking in the restaurant about my gun shooting problem and the words that flow in are _"Heart chooses what it chooses"_. I remember how nervous I was when she walked into that kitchen, just like any other time. _"Shrimp, that one's a keeper"_ I hear my Pops saying in my head. I look at the box in my hand and open it, that dream when I was in coma still haunts me, so I close the lid and put the box back in my pocket and know exactly what I need to do. 

Surprisingly my heart and mind don't argue. I smile as I remember Bones and my conversation several weeks ago after the multiple wife case and I speak and let the world hear: "I'm not going anywhere Bones! I'm right here."

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